My Gay Bookshelf

For my birthday earlier this year, my brother Will gave me two books that show just how compelling Young Adult fiction is. The first was Am I Normal Yet? by Holly Bourne, a question Evie grapples with around feminism, boys and mental health.

The second book was Two Boys Kissing. As I fell quickly into the pages, I realized this was the first novel I'd read about young gay men, their relationships and their desires. The first novel I'd read where my sexual identity was reflected back to me from every page.

Every time I hear, read, see those voices telling stories about being gay, I’m empowered. As Pride season continues, here’s a quick review of three books already on my bookshelf that I loved, and previews of three I hope to love next.

Three to read now

Two Boys Kissing by David Leviathan is simply incredible. Centred, as you might expect, around two boys kissing, the book steadily and suddenly grows with intensity, intrigue and emotion by offering an authentic snapshot of young gay boys in America. At one point I was struck with a shudder and a memory from my school days that I’d long forgotten. The narration makes it a stand-out read that you must discover for yourself, because it’s too good to give away any more plot details.

Proud by Gareth Thomas with Michael Calvin breaks away from the formulaic autobiography template, sometimes interrupting and mixing up the chronology of the Welsh rugby hero's coming out to the best effect. The book is intimate, whilst still maintaining Thomas’ privacy and avoiding a ‘kiss and tell of Soho’ saga. Ultimately it’s a story of celebrating your identity, and left me hopeful for more British rugby players and sportsmen to talk about their sexuality. The love and acceptance is there, and continually growing.

In Fathomless Riches, Rev Richard Coles glides through the three stages of his working life: 1980s socialist popstar in The Communards, full-time raver/artist and then his ordination to be an Anglican priest. He doesn’t seek to justify his sexuality and theology but uses it as accepted truths throughout the book. Coles gives a vivid and personal look into the 1980s London gay scene and the devastating impact of Aids on the whole community.

Three to read next

Matthew Todd is Editor of Attitude, Britain’s best-selling gay men’s magazine. His book Straight Jacket: How to be Gay and Happy has already been described as life changing and a must read by those fortunate enough to get a preview copy. Mental health is a critical issue for the LGBT community. 1 in 3 young LGB people in the UK and 1 in 2, that’s half, of all young trans people have attempted suicide. Todd has been there and seen gay culture from all sides. I’ll be listening to him speak about the book and review it here at the end of the month.

Also due out in the next year is Vicky Beeching's forthcoming memoir. Vicky made her name and living as a British worship leader over in Nashville, a city at the heart of America’s conservative Bible belt. Since coming out two years ago as a lesbian, she’s been an inspiration to LGBT+ Christians across the world to speak openly about their faith and sexuality, including me. The fallout of a high profile evangelical Christian coming out has included her royalties taking a hit as some conservative churches stopped playing her worship songs. It’s a continuing story that I want to start reading now.

Garth Greenwell's debut novel, What Belongs To You starts with an American in a Bulgarian gay cruising bathroom. It’s an updated scene that I’d seen before in Tearoom Trade, the controversial sociological study from the 1970s that was the first book about I read about gay sex. [I wouldn't recommend it as an introduction. I mistakenly chose to read it for my course assuming it would be about actual tearooms]. Reviews for What Belongs To You have already called it ‘the great gay novel of our times’ and are celebrating its 40-page paragraph.

Have you read some of those books and want to share your views? Or have other books to recommend? Let me know so I can keep growing 'my gay bookshelf'!

Five Thoughts from #LGBTFaith

As February comes to an end, so does LGBT History Month. This year’s theme has been Religion, Belief and Philosophy. I was lucky enough to share my story in QX Magazine, and attended two panel events talking about faith and sexuality. Here’s five thoughts that I‘m taking away from the month.

1. ‘The Church of England is proof that Britain is a place for diverse theologies’ (Ruth Hunt, Chief Exeuctive of Stonewall)

I don’t want people to apologise for their theological beliefs that same-sex relationships are wrong. But I want us to accept we can think differently, with the same integrity and passion for following Jesus. Learning to ‘disagree well’ won’t happen overnight, but it’s no impossibility.

2. People twist religion into their own hatred

Vicky Beeching was a renowned worship leader living in the heart of America’s Bible belt. Since she came out as gay, she’s faced an unfounded backlash amidst the waves of support. One letter said ‘I used to think you were a role model to my kids, now we’ve had a burning ceremony for your CDs’. That’s not disagreeing well, that’s homophobia.

3. Degrees of hurt are irrelevant when any hurt hurts

Not every story I heard this month was as extreme as Vicky, and sadly some were ‘worse’. Vicky is passionate about her faith but doesn’t regularly worship in one church, because there’s pain. I’ve never been an international worship leader and I didn’t come out in a national newspaper, but likewise I’ve heard Christians manipulate the voice of God to sound hateful and exclusionary. It doesn’t matter if the hurt is spoken softly or angrily. Hurt hurts and it turns vulnerable people, their friends and family away from the Church.

4. You can never tell your story too many times

Within LGBT faith identities, being a gay white male Christian feels privileged, like white males anywhere. I’d shared my story enough times of Facebook, Christian blogs and workplace chat, that I arrogantly assumed everyone knew me as a Christian who is gay. Writing for QX gave me the chance to take my story into a new space and say I’m a gay man who’s a Christian. We - that’s we for society, not just the gays - need people to keep taking their stories and identities into new spaces.

5. There’s change and there’s hope

That change is coming from people sharing their stories and entering into conversations. The Church of England is ‘disagreeing well’ by working with Stonewall to combat homophobic bullying in schools. Sally Hitchiner and Diverse Church are talking with conservative Church leaders to think about LGBT inclusion. My employer, Christian Aid, has a sexuality network.

I can go on dates and go to church. I can get married to another man but not in a church, or if I want to be a vicar, or if I live in Northern Ireland. There’s change and there’s hope.

The Truths I Tell Myself

Back in February, when anxiety suddenly ached in my body and my soul, I went to work in Teddington (so south-west London, it’s not really London) with my door keys to home in Southend. I honestly thought during that week I would break down at my desk. And when I did, it would be OK, because I could speed straight back home to Essex and Mum without stopping-off in my depressing Putney flat.

With the love of my colleagues, I made it to the end of the week and went home for a long weekend. The doubts and struggles have changed and continued throughout the year, of course they have. But since that moment in February, I’ve started discovering and reminding myself of these truths. I hope you share them (well, most of them) with me.

Exciting things happen to me

My day job, for now, is pretty humdrum. I answer phones and emails while school friends are playing Super League rugby, touring with their rock-band and creative social media pioneers.

They’re living their dreams, and mine are coming true too. This year I interviewed bestselling author Matt Haig and met the Queen of Breakfast TV, Lorraine Kelly. They were dream-come-true moments that inspire me to keep meeting people and keep telling stories.

No one has it ‘all’

Social media is a rose-tinted world, an endless parade of what’s great about other people’s lives. Don’t mistake it for a reality that every else is living full of holidays and sunshine instead of heartaches and struggles.

It’s OK to ‘miss out’

Life is still awesome when you don’t watch that TV show, don’t eat at that restaurant or stay in one night instead of going out with friends.

I’m doing OK and I’m working towards ‘better’

At my lowest moments, when I questioned my choices and was resentful of anyone ahead  in ‘The Game of Life’, people reminded me there was and always is some unquantifiable hope. A hope that I would feel better and life would be better.

‘Life’ isn’t a linear race between myself or anyone else. Hope doesn’t smooth out the what lies ahead. It powers you onwards.

Hobbies are transient and don’t define me

I adore signing in a choir, and I’ll return to it, hopefully soon. But it’s not for now.

Find ways to feel

Read. Walk. Watch a film. Sing a song. Sport and culture offers a magical realm that takes us both into ourselves and away from our ourselves.

Take time to look after yourself

Physically and mentally, that takes time and compromise. But there is always, always help so take that too.

People will save you and carry you through

Don’t talk about the importance of friends and family. Talk about love and compassion and recognise how those qualities go far beyond neatly-labelled relationships. You don’t need to love someone through friendly or familial ties to care for them. You just need to be there and be in their moment.

A thousand 'Thank Yous' to everyone who was there for me, with their ears, in a thousand different moments this year.

#TacheTalk: Time

‘Work/life balance’. An empty phrase we’re all meant to achieve. I thought it meant keeping your job on the desk and working a 35-hour week.

When my friends work long hours, I worry. Ali is a commodity trader who views an hour lunch break as a ‘luxury’. Nathan is a personal trainer seeing clients 45 hours every week. Chris travels across Essex to cut hair at home and in his barbershop. Other friends are ‘really busy at work’ so we weren’t able to have a #TacheTalk.

Nathan, a personal trainer in Essex

 

Those working styles are alien to me. I clock off at 5pm, forget about work and go home to bake a cake, do the washing, blog, catch up on Lorraine, have a friend round for dinner, buy Christmas decorations, run, race through the latest read for book club, spend half an hour writing a birthday card and sleep.

 

OK, that’s more accurately one week rather than one day. I’m not busy with long hours at work, but busy with long hours after work and you probably are too. How we use our finite time is dominated by demands to keep living, the pressure we place on ourselves and a fear of missing out. The clocks we set ourselves can feel constraining.

Allow your passions and priorities to guide your time. The passion Ali, Nathan and Chris have for their chosen careers is obvious, inspiring and beautiful. They love their work, and are appropriately rewarded for it. ‘Long hours’ aren’t the burden or worry I painted for them. Inevitably there are overlaps and compromises. Nathan recently won a men’s regional physique competition, but turned down his place in the final as his family came first at that time.

Let’s ditch work/life balance. It’s a poor shorthand that suggests a false dichotomy and a divide between the ‘balanced’ and ‘unbalanced’. I want to stop judging my friends for how long they work and focus on my own busyness. If it’s not a passion or a priority, if it’s not helping me stay happy and healthy, why am I doing it?

John with his American Football

My friend John has a good outlook. When I talked with him about being busy, he offered this view: ‘What do I do with my time? This is my chance to leave more than just DVDs and books for my children to take to charity shops.’

You can see everyone I’ve talked to and donate to Movember here
Tomorrow: Fantasies and realities

A New Timeline

Grief superglues a date on your mind. For me, that date is today. My mind takes me straight there when someone mentions ‘seven years ago’. Or I’ll read about a different day in November 2008 and remember what emotions were living alongside me.

On 12th November 2008, my Dad died. It sucks. It sucks today as much as it did then. The grief doesn’t dominate me, but sometimes guilt and ‘what ifs?’ sneak in. I feel his absence when I’m playing with my five-year old nephew, the beautiful grandson Dad should be here to love as much as me.

Today is not a day I move on from. It’s a day I move on with. But it’s not baggage I grudgingly drag along. It’s experience that, though painful at times, enables me to talk about cancer, empathise with others grieving and appreciate ‘being’.

I still wish it hadn’t happened, that November was no different from any other month and everything I’ve learnt in the last seven years had been learnt another way. But it did happen and it started a new timeline, one that I’m proud to embrace and continue. This last year especially I’ve recognised how in the most painful and distressing times, there is joy and peace that will come out of it.

Today I’ll reflect more than most. I don’t know when joy or grief will give me another date to focus on. Until then, I’ll continue with the timeline I have because I trust it’s the right one.

Some things are more important than my facial hair

Recently, I've had family members jokingly not recognise me, friends genuinely not recognise me and Grandpa mis-recognise me as my brother the moment I told him 'I'm gay'. Why? I’ve grown a bushy beard. Not to boost my hipster credentials, but because I was bored of shaving.

Then I received a phone call from Movember, encouraging me as a 5-time veteran to sign up for 2015. I’d already made my choice. I couldn’t sacrifice the last six months and completely shave off my ‘distinguished beard’ (other people’s flattering description, not mine). This year, no mo for Joe.

But some things are more important than my facial hair.

The sickening feeling when a friend shares he has testicular cancer.

The grief and humility of returning to your school hall for a memorial service.

The confusion and failure you falsely see your life descending into.

Movember isn’t about facial hair. It uses moustaches as talking point and fundraiser for men’s health. I’ve enjoyed spending each November grooming a moustache and talking to people through my blog about cancer, mental health and my Dad’s legacy.

This time I don’t need to talk at people. I need to talk with them. I’ve challenged myself to have 30 conversations with 30 guys throughout Movember.

It could be a daring dating strategy, but the focus will be health and wellbeing. Influenced by Britain’s most quotable author, Matt Haig, I’ve learnt that ‘talk breeds talk’. The power of normal stories from everyone will break the secrecy and silence that still defines men’s health. Thankfully, through the work of Movember, CALM and Professor Green amongst others, it’s a shrinking silence.

Will you join me for a chat? I’d love to talk to any guys to hear their story and views. It won’t be a formal interview that I publish to the world. Instead, I’ll share what I’m learning each week on this blog. It’s my biggest Movember challenge yet; too big for me to worry about growing a moustache at the same time. That’s disappointing news for my Mother, who hoped the bushy beard would go.

Some things are more important than my facial hair. Chatting about men’s health is one of them.

If you’re interested and can join me for a face-to-face chat this month around London or Essex, please contact me. I’d also love to speak to people through Skype and other online platforms.

You can donate to Movember through my Mo Space and tweet me @JoeyKnock.

Would you #BleedForEngland?

'If you have supported England on the pitch - your job's not done.' You might have thought it is, given our early exit from the Rugby World Cup, but the NHS is still asking people to 'support England in a way that matters' and become a new blood donor. The #BleedForEngland campaign features Jonny Wilkinson and the winning Class of 2003 donating blood for the first time, as well as this highly-emotive ad you might have seen on TV.

I had conflicting views when I heard about the campaign. There is a desperate shortage of blood donations across the UK, but I'm not sure if sports and patriotism is the answer. So I asked some of my friends who play rugby and donate blood for their thoughts.

Photo: Jack Smale

George is an amateur rugby player from London who's donated blood 5 times

I first decided to give blood because I was interested to find out my blood type, After that I did work experience in Southend Hospital’s haematology labs which drove home the importance of donating blood and the impact of the shortage at the moment.

Using rugby heroes brings a more down to earth feel to the campaign, and makes it much more relevant to fans and players. It’s a shame it focuses on the men's rugby team. Our women's rugby team are more successful, and it's a fast growing sport in the UK.

Becky from Coventry has donated blood 19 times

I remember getting a letter from the NHS blood donor service when I was 16 and immediately signing up because it was a great and easy way to contribute to saving people's lives. I still do it knowing that someone out there has been helped through my donation, although donating has become special to me in another way. My Dad had non-hodgkins lymphoma, a kind of cancer which prevented him from producing his own red blood cells, so he was kept alive through weekly blood transfusions. That would not have happened without the donors of A- blood and my gratitude to those people is a precious thought, as well as the thought that I could be doing for someone what those others did for my Dad when I go to donate.

My top tip for a first time donor, especially if they're worried about the pain or needles, is just to remember what an amazing thing you're doing. It's about ten minutes of discomfort which pales in comparison to the fact that you are saving a victim of a car accident; a new mother; someone undergoing major surgery; a cancer patient... Another human being. I had more years with my Dad than I would have had if he hadn't been able to have transfusions, and they could not have happened without ordinary people donating.

Photo: London Broncos

Sean from Oxford is a professional rugby player with London Broncos

I haven't donated blood before, because it hasn’t fitted with my rugby schedule. However, it is something I intend to do when I get a long enough break or stop playing seriously.

There's an interesting separation between people's awareness of the need for more blood donations, and the number of people who give blood. It seems that at present, it's all too easy to give excuses, myself included! The more that is done to break down these barriers to participation, the better the conversion of public awareness into action will be.

The campaign is pretty effective. It normalises the process and makes it seem more accessible. Using rugby players like Jonny Wilkinson makes it easier to relate to the process as having watched these guys playing rugby, you feel you 'know' them on some level.

Rhianna from London has donated blood about 10 times

There was nothing in the #BleedForEngland campaign that resonated with my experience of donating blood. I give blood because I am privileged enough to be able to, and because I care about the people who need it and I want to help them. I don't do it for 'England', I do it for people, and I wouldn't care if the blood I donated wasn't used in this country. It’s turned something that to me is simple, happy, peaceful and altruistic into something showy, self-righteous, divisively patriotic, and exclusive.

I imagine there is a minority of nationalistic right-wing types who will love the campaign and be encouraged to donate. But thankfully, they are a minority. I think most people will think it's a stupid, thoughtless and insensitive campaign and be slightly sickened by it. Instead, I’d encourage people to donate blood by showing them testimonies of regular donors and footage of donation centres. There is such a nice, friendly atmosphere!

Sam is an amateur rugby player from Essex

I would like to donate blood but I’m squeamish with needles. The #BleedForEngland campaign has certainly made me think if I could overcome that phobia I would want to donate. Rugby fans like myself will obviously see legends of the game and may follow their example, but there’s no guarantee. I think ads that are more hard-hitting would be good, like with road safety ads. If no blood donor is available, the consequences should be made clear; the ‘shock factor’ is key.

Chris from Billericay has donated blood about 15 times

I decided to donate blood as I felt it was a service that I might depend upon at any time in my life, and as I would then depend upon donations made by other people, it was only right that I donate to help others in return. It also helped that both parents had a history of blood donation. I’ve continued to donate because it's very simple, straightforward process and I'm now aware that I have O-negative blood which can be given to anyone and is particularly important.

I should really talk to more people about my experience. I don't think I've ever had any conversations about it in the workplace. One of the most powerful motivating factors I've seen for myself and others is knowing someone else who can talk you through it and allay any fears new donors may have.

Louise from Southend has donated blood about eight times

I decided to donate when I was 17 when I was first allowed to. I wanted to help people that needed it and this was an easy way to do that. The video definitely matches my experience, they just need to add some biscuits at the end! It's a friendly environment. The hand movements and chair set up is all exactly as I experience when I donate.


If you’re considering donating, give it a go. If it doesn't work for you you never have to go back but it's a simple thing to do, only takes an hour and you'll be saving lives. I often discuss giving blood with people and encourage them to try it. Just explaining what happens seems to help.

Tom is an amateur rugby player from Brighton

My first time giving blood was five years ago. My mum was going to our local town hall to do it and I thought I would go along too. I was surprised at how simple, quick, painless and easy the whole process was. It gave me a sense of pride afterwards as I knew that somewhere down the line my small amount of blood could potentially save someone's life. I honestly don't know why I haven't done it since. Seeing some of my rugby heroes doing it has encouraged me to do it again and reminded me how easy it is.

Hannah from Switzerland has donated blood 4 times

I decided to donate blood because I thought, "Why not?" I was the right age, weight, and was healthy so I didn't see any reason why I shouldn't use that to help someone. My experience of donating blood isn't one where you sit around with mates having a chat like in the campaign video. The nurses are always friendly enough but it's not like a pub gathering, nor does it need to be.

The campaign doesn't change how I feel about donating blood, but it does add to already uncomfortable feelings about the amount of things we try to connect to patriotism. A lot of nationalism already makes me uncomfortable, because I believe that the whole world is ‘part of one team’. It also seems to mean by default that if you can't donate blood, whether because of illness, and/or being a sexually active gay or bisexual man, that you are not part of ‘the team’, which I imagine could feel very isolating, particularly to groups that are already a shunned part of society. I would prefer the message to be more inclusive.

John from Coventry has donated blood 21 times

I decided to donate blood because I think it's helpful and helps saves lives. It's made a lot easier by how lovely, friendly and appreciative the staff always are. I dislike giving blood and it’s a mental battle every time not to freak out and faint at the needle and blood.

I'd recommend to anyone donating for the first time to drink loads of water or squash beforehand and after, rather than tea or coffee and don't look at the needle! Be friendly and chat with the nurses as they're often very happy to chat and keep your mind on other things. When giving blood comes up in conversation I do encourage others to go, if I can do so without making them feel guilty.

#BloodBuddy

The campaign seems to be succeeding. So far 72,000 new donors have registered, the pre-step before booking an appointment and donating blood. But the nationalistic overtones sends a poor message to those who want to but can't donate blood as if you're letting down you're country by being gay. You don't choose your health or sexuality.

Like many of my friends interviewed above, I believe the passion to donate doesn't come from patriotism but personal stories of lives saved, friendly staff and knowing how to cope with a needle sitting in your arm. I'd start a new campaign called #BloodBuddy to encourage donors to share their experiences, explain exactly what happens at a donation appointment to their friends and go along and support them. Both John and Rhianna looked after me when I almost fainted after donating blood in Coventry.

I'm a #BloodBuddy. How can I help you?